


A Thief's Mystery

by FantasyBard



Series: A Thief's Life [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyBard/pseuds/FantasyBard
Summary: Sherlock Holmes and Brenna Ryan are the most unlikely couple that could be imagined. He is an analytical, seemingly emotionless consulting detective, while she is a former thief turned work release advisor on matter of white collar crime. Yet, it would be difficult to deny just how well the two of them work together.When a case involving ciphers, murder, and a dangerous ring of Chinese smugglers, causes them to join forces, they will need to use their combined resources in order solve the case of the blink banker.But Sherlock and Brenna's talent for working together started at the very beginning, on the case that first brought them together two and a half years earlier. Though they claimed not to like each other, they also couldn't deny a strange fascination with the other. Brenna found that Sherlock was a man who she didn't have to keep secrets from, and Sherlock discovered that even the most ordinary of women could have an ace or two up their sleeve.





	1. Origins

Origins:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that you can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle. At least, this fact is acknowledged if one is the world's only consulting detective who considers his word to be unquestionable.

To be honest, John Watson didn't know how you could tell a good Chinese restaurant by looking at the door handle. And he didn't think asking Sherlock how he had acquired this knowledge would really be the best idea. However, it proved true that the restaurant was indeed one of the better ones he had eaten at. And with Sherlock and Brenna along, it made the outing all the better. His share of human interaction had been scant since he had returned from Afghanistan. He hadn't realized how much he missed it.

It was somewhat hard to believe that only a few hours ago, they had tracked down a dangerous serial killer. To watch Brenna and Sherlock talking and laughing so easily, one would have thought that this was a completely normal evening among friends. But John was beginning to realize that normal had a very different meaning when it applied to these two. With Sherlock, it was fairly obvious from the start. However, John had seen the way most people seemed to act around Brenna, by turns suspicious and contemptuous. He hadn't been able to glean the reason behind such behavior, as Brenna seemed to have a natural charm which Sherlock seemed to be utterly devoid of.

However, Brenna proved to be just as observant as Sherlock on some matters, and so it was perhaps no surprise when unexpectedly turned to him in the course of the conversation and said, "Now, John, are you going to start asking those questions you have about me, or are you going to allow yourself to sit there and die or curiosity?"

The question caught John off-guard, and for a brief moment, he wasn't sure how to respond. "What makes you think that I have questions about you?"

Brenna shrugged. "Everyone always does. I have to admit that nearly every part of my life is unique. It can be very confusing for some people to follow."

"Well, since you bring it up, where do you fit in with the police? Sherlock said that someone named Alice Bennett was your handler."

"That's putting it mildly." muttered Sherlock.

"Sherlock, that's an exaggeration and you know it." She turned back to John. "To answer your question properly, Alice Bennett is a Detective Inspector in charge of the White Collar division at Scotland Yard."

"White Collar?" asked John.

"Yes, art theft, insurance scams, bond forgery, anything of that sort. It's our department that takes care of it. Don't ask Sherlock, he finds 90% of the cases that I work to be dull."

"Any idiot can forge a cheque." said Sherlock, "You can always tell from a mile off if you know what to look for."

"And I do, Sherlock, from first hand experience. It's how I got my start, so I suppose you think that I'm an idiot as well." She smiled at John, "See, I told you that he only calls people idiots that he likes."

"But you were caught." said Sherlock.

"I wasn't caught, I turned myself in."

"If you hadn't, they would have caught you anyway. That's what Bennett always told me."

"Wait, wait just a minute." said John, who got the feeling that the bantering between these two could very well go on for hours, "What do you mean, you turned yourself in?"

In answer, Brenna raised her left trouser leg, and for the first time, John saw the black tracking anklet that was fashioned around her ankle. "Quite attractive, don't you think?" She said, rather lightly, "I'm thinking of starting a fashion line of them when my work release is finished."

All the pieces started to fall into place for John. "So, you were a thief?" Really, could there have been any explanation for the way that other members of the police force acted around Brenna? He couldn't imagine that they particularly liked having a criminal in their midst. What surprised John even more than this revelation, though, was how very little he cared.

Brenna smirked. "Actually, there was only enough evidence for them to convict me on bond forgery. Everything else that I supposedly did, like stealing from museums and the collections of wealthy snobs, recreating famous masterpieces, basically anything that was exciting," she waved a hand airily, as though such actions were nothing more than a side trip for her, "All that was based on hearsay and rumors." Despite her flippancy, John heard more than a little pride in Brenna's tone, pride which had strangely echoed in Sherlock's boasts about his prowress. Clearly, they had a great deal more in common than they probably would have liked to admit.

"And since you are your own best advertiser, you naturally add to those rumors yourself. Personally, I am certain that you got everyone to like you so much, they didn't have the heart to put you away for anything else."

"Sherlock, do you want to tell the story or my sordid past of shall I?"

"I'm just trying to make it more interesting."

"Sherlock, I appreciate the effort," said John, "but I would rather hear it from Brenna, if you don't mind."

Brenna chuckled at Sherlock's expression, which looked as though he minded very much. "You'll have to forgive Sherlock, John. He doesn't like to be reminded of the fact that when we first met, he couldn't tell that I was a criminal."

John looked at Sherlock, in mild disbelief. "Seriously, you weren't able to work that out?"

"She wasn't wearing her anklet at the time." said Sherlock, almost too defensively. "She's too good at covering her tracks; otherwise I'm sure that I would have deduced it right away."

"And how long did it take you to deduce it?"

"Oh, he never deduced the entire story. I had to tell him myself." said Brenna, with a smile.

Sherlock squirmed a bit uncomfortably, and John grinned. He rather liked the idea that there was someone on Earth who could hide such a big secret from Sherlock. "Sounds like you two have quite a history."

"Oh yes, I can assure you of that, going all the way back to the beginning."

Brenna told John about the first case that she and Sherlock had ever worked together, a set of two similar jewel thefts which had forced them to combine their resources and work together. It had not been an easy task to accomplish. Their egos had clashed, they had argued nearly unceasingly, and they had come close to nearly killing each other on more than one occasion. However, once they had been able to get past all the animousity and see something other than than themselves, they had been somewhat surprised to realize just how well they worked together. They had solved the case of the jewel thefts in record time, and so Alice had made a point of putting the two of them together more than once over the years to bring about the same results.

"You know, if anyone else had told me that story, I would be fairly certain that they were only making it up." said John, once she had finished her story. "However, with you two, that seems like it would be a fairly typical day."

"If by typical you mean boring." said Sherlock, "Most of what I do, at least, is far more stimulating than anything which Brenna could describe."

John looked over at Brenna, still half wondering if Sherlock could say anything that would make her angry. Instead, all he saw on her face was exasperated affection. "But, the one thing I can't understand is if you were sentenced to a prison sentence, why are you even able to help the police? I think they would want to keep a pretty close eye on you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." said Brenna, "That's what the anklet is for. A short time after my conviction, Alice managed to get me out on a work release. I'm still not sure how she was able to swing it. She had been tracking me nearly my entire criminal career, and unlike most law enforcement, she actually respected my abilities instead of suspecting them. She thought that I might be able to do some good."

"And that tracking anklet is part of the deal, I assume?"

"Pretty much. It tracks all my movements, and I can move freely within a two mile radius. Thanks to some exemplary behavior of the last few months, I'm occasionally allowed to go outside that barrier as long as I ask for Alice's permission first. Most of the time, she gives it without any trouble."

John shook his head. "She must trust you a lot if she's willing to give you that kind of freedom. It's extraordinary, really."

Brenna looked at him, and for the first time, that evening wasn't a glittering mask of gaiety and charm. She actually seemed surprised. "You seem easily impressed by thing a lot of people would find questionable."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's be realistic, John. Introducing yourself as a former thief doesn't mean that people will be taking a shine to you immediately. Hardly anyone at the Yard trusts me, and there are even some members of my family who don't speak to me because of the things I've done. You claim to be impressed. I don't know where that worries me or not."

John smiled back at her. "It's not many people who will go after a killer in order to ensure he'll be stopped from hurting anymore people. Things like that mean a great deal more to me than anything you might have done in the past." He paused, as if considering something, and added, "Just try not to steal anything that belongs to me, and we'll get along fine."

"Oh, then I suppose that I should give this back." said Brenna, with a return of her mischievous smirk, and held up John's wallet.

John just stared at Brenna and his wallet for an astonished moment, before he smiled and started laughing. Taking the wallet from Brenna with a shrug of surrender, he said, "I suppose I should have asked for that, shouldn't I?"

"Don't worry. Since you asked, I won't do it anymore."

"You never show the same courtesy to me." said Sherlock, "I've allowed you to steal several things from my person since we first met, and you've never stopped."

"Well, you never asked." said Brenna, as though  that should have made all the difference.

The evening continued in much the same vein, and what John saw of Sherlock and Brenna together during that time was all the confirmation that they needed. He had stumbled onto a relationship that was the farthest from normal that could be imagined. That was part of what he found so incredibly fascinating. A former thief and a consulting detective; it seemed as though they could not have been farther apart in terms of profession, not to mention personality. Yet, they completed each other so well. In that respect, John wondered if they were really that different from any other two people in the world who were in love.

From what he had observed, the people around Sherlock and Brenna didn't trust them. They didn't seem to open up to people very easily. But, they had both had let him into a rather privileged position. He was a newcomer to this world, but in the course of one night, felt as though he had been with them much longer. John had quickly realized that making the decision to move into 221B Baker St, his life would be changed in ways that he never could have realized.

And the adventure was only about to begin.


	2. An Ordinary Day

An Ordinary Day:

For the most part, Brenna Ryan was very much on her own when it came to the inside workings of the Yard. Aside from Alice Bennet and Greg Lestrade, there were very few people on the police force who actually trusted her. Hardly surprising, considering her past. However, after two and a half years, Brenna had sometimes hoped that they might have moved beyond that.

But, there were two other officers who she worked with regularly, who had managed to overcome their initial prejudice and actually come to trust her, and they even seemed to like her, in their own strange ways.

One was Alice's Sergeant, Patrick Carson. He had been on the Force for the past seven years, and he had a spotless record. He was somewhat sarcastic, especially when it came to arresting the criminals that they were constantly tracking down. He was also a realist, and hadn't been to keen on Brenna at first. However, once he had seen how committed she was to the cause of the White Collar unit; he had started to think better of her. The two of them had established a rather good working relationship, with a good deal of friendly competition and good natured insults passing on both sides.

The other was a newbie on the White Collar crew. His name was Trevor Bates. He was in his early twenties and fresh out of basic training. He was still learning the ropes, so he could sometimes be naïve and clueless, in the most endearing of ways. At the same time, it was sometimes his way of looking at things, so totally without preconception, was a refreshing change. He also possessed a near hero worship of Alice Bennet, whose reputation on the Force was somewhat legendary (it wasn't for nothing that she was called Iron Lady). It also turned out that he had spent quite a great deal of time researching Brenna herself, and meeting her seemed to be the icing on the cake.

These two had become Brenna's closest working partners over the last few years, and it made coming into work ever day a pleasure rather then a burden.

A typical day pretty well represented began when Brenna came into the White Collar office, only to be greeted by Patrick and Trevor. Trevor was leaning against Patrick's desk, and the two of them were evidently deep in conversation when Brenna came in. When they saw her, Patrick motioned for her to come over to them. "Hey, Brenna, come over, we're in need of your artistic expertise."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that." said Brenna, as she came over, especially when she saw the somewhat questionable gleam in Patrick's eyes. "Are you two trying to humiliate me?"

"Hey, if you can help us, you won't have to worry about that." said Patrick, with a grin, "Unless of course you don't think you know the answer."

"I never said that, I just don't like playing the odds unless I have some idea of what those odds are."

"Don't worry, it's nothing to complicated." Said Trevor, rather eagerly, almost too eagerly Brenna thought. "We were just discussing the Sistine Chapel."

"Okay, that's a rather odd topic to be on this early in the morning. What about the Sistine Chapel?"

"Well, Patrick here said that you saw it while you were in Rome, and that you knew everything about it."

"Pretty much. I can tell you the circumstances that led up to it, the political situation and the propaganda that most of the figures were meant to represent. I could even conjure up the names of Michelangelo's assistants."

"But Michelangelo didn't have any assistants." Said Trevor, "He did the entire thing by himself."

Brenna looked at Trevor, "Uh, Trevor, do you have any idea how big the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel actually is? Michelangelo would have collapsed from exhaustion if he had to do the entire thing by himself. He had assistants, their names have just been lost to history. And I can also tell you that he didn't paint the frescos lying flat on his back, he had to bend over backwards, literally."

Trevor's face fell, and Patrick beamed. "Pay up, Trevor."

"Wait, is that what this is about?" said Brenna, "Patrick, are you playing on Trevor's relative newness to the force?"

"Well, I might have mentioned something about it, but Trevor didn't believe me. He seems to accept your word as gospel truth, though. So I bet him twenty pounds that you would say exactly what you did."

"Yeah, he did." said Trevor, rather sheepishly. "God, I feel like an idiot. I should have known better than to bet against your knowledge."

"Yes, you should have. But Patrick should have known better than to prey on your inexperience. I say keep your money so that he will learn not to do that, and you remember in the future not to make any bets until you know something of the competition. That's what I learned."

"Brenna, come on. Trevor is going to have to learn who he was working with at some point."

"Oh, I think he already has a very good idea of that, Patrick."

"So, the Sistine Chapel, is it really as beautiful as all the pictures make it out to be?" asked Trevor.

"It is one of the wonders of Rome, and that is saying something." Said Brenna, with a smile, "You should see it at least once before you die. Later on, I'll tell you all about it in more detail. Right now, here comes Alice, and it looks like she's on a mission."

Alice was indeed coming their way, and the focused, determined look on her face was the one she always wore when a new case was brewing. She stopped at the little gathering assessed them, "Most officers congregate around the coffee pot, and they do it around ten in the morning. What are you all doing lounging around here at eight thirty?"

"Work place bonding." Said Brenna, "We were just showing Trevor here the ropes."

Alice eyed them. "All in your own special ways, I'm sure."

"Why are you giving me the evil eye, Bennet?" asked Patrick, "How do you know it wasn't Brenna?"

"Because I think Brenna is a bit more welcoming of the newbies then you are. And don't think that I didn't see you talking with Trevor when I came in. If anything's going on, I know that you had something to do with it. Besides, fun and game time is over. Get in the conference room, we have a case."

As Brenna, Trevor and the rest of the team gathered in the conference room, it was clear that the expression on Alice's face that this was no ordinary case which they were about to be briefed on.

"I received a call today from the higher-ups at INTERPOL." She said, without a preamble.

"What's got into them now?" asked Patrick, "They wouldn't be asking the help of the Yard, not if there was something serious going on."

"This is what tipped them off." Alice turned on the screen in the conference room, and all of them saw the screen shot of a website, a record of the Chinese artifacts which had been sold in the various auction houses around London. "Anyone see anything suspicious about these items?"

"You mean, besides the fact that they're all rare and most likely long lost treasures from the Chinese dynasties?" said Trevor.

Patrick looked at him. "You didn't know about the Sistine Chapel, but you can just from just looking at the screen that those are Chinese artifacts?"

"Hey, I'm not a complete idiot. It just seems to be the logical place to start. Ever since Mao's revolution in China, those artifacts which weren't out of the country already were put on lockdown. Nothing could go in or out of the country."

"And since the borders have become a bit more relaxed, that history is starting to come out a bit more." Said Alice, "There's a lot more interest in these sorts of things recently, especially among the museum scene."

"The donors are also all anonymous." Said Brenna, "Perhaps not entirely suspicious in and of itself. But, from what I can tell, the greater majority of those artifacts are coming from the Ming Dynasty, and all within the last few months. Where did this mystery donor find all of them? Not by fair means, I can tell you."

"INTERPOL was able to follow the money trail." Said Alice, "They were all too several bans in Hong Kong, all of them with known ties to a Tong."

"A what?" said Trevor.

"A name for ancient Chinese crime syndicates." Alice explained, "They're the Asian equivalent of mob organizations. They deal in drugs, weapons, anything illegal and guaranteed to make a lot of money and a lot of trouble very fast. Now, it seems that they are trying to expand their business to include antiques as well."

"If INTERPOL has traced the money, why can't they make any arrests?" asked Patrick.

"That's just it. They didn't know which Tong is doing the smuggling." Said Alice, "And it is smuggling, that much they know. INTERPOL wants us to look into it because they said that some of the smugglers are people local to London. They fear that any of their own agents will draw attention."

"Is that the only reason?" asked Brenna.

Alice rolled her eyes and said, "Well, they might have said something about needing your expertise. It seems that our success rate is getting us noticed. But don't let the personal attention give you a big head, Brenna. Don't forget that not to long ago, INTERPOL was breathing down your neck. You're lucky I got to you first. You wouldn't have been getting a release deal from them."

"Still, it lends some prestige to the department, doesn't it?" asked Brenna.

"You are impossible, Brenna." Said Alice.

"Thank you."

"That wasn't meant to be a compliment and you know it." Alice retorted, "I would advise shutting up now before you find yourself on desk duty for the rest of the week."

Brenna was by no means beaten with this statement, but she also knew that Alice would, in all likelihood, carry out her threat. She didn't want to risk losing out on a case that could finally be interesting.

"Now, if we can get back on track." Said Alice, "There is one person especially of interest that INTERPOL wants us to check out, and where out investigation will be starting". Another image came up on the screen, this time of a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties. "Edward Van Coon, a banker with Shad Sanderson in the City. He just so happens to be the head of Hong Kong trading at the bank."

"Seems rather a bit convenient." Said Brenna.

"Not to mention the fact that he seems to have recently lost five million pounds in a morning and gotten it back in less than a week." Said Patrick, looking at the notes on Van Coon, "One doesn't make that sort of money without taking a few considerable cuts from outside forces."

"It's the perfect cover." Said Alice, "His business requires that he take frequent trips to China. No one even thinks to question it. I doubt if even his employers suspect anything. Now, we can't prove anything on just this. There isn't enough direct proof. But I think it would be a good idea to give Mr. Van Coon a discrete visit."

"How discrete?" asked Brenna, with a smile.

"Discrete enough for you to handle Brenna. The two of us are going to see him as soon as this meeting is over."

"The usual routine, then?"

"Yes, I ask the straight questions and make everyone nervous. You observe all the outward signs for anything that I might miss. The rest of you, start putting together a list of Van Coon's partners and acquaintances. I want to see if there is anyway we can track his business associates in this smuggling ring."

This brought the meeting to an end. As Trevor, Patrick and the rest left the conference room, Alice noticed Brenna's excited look. "Would you quite looking so happy? Honestly, after all these years, the level of excitement these crimes produce in you can still be rather disturbing."

"You know what I think, Alice. I find artistry in well-crafted thefts. There is something about a well-done smuggling operation which gets my blood pumping."

"Because you've done a fair bit of it yourself?"

"You steal a rare Monet or Picasso; you have to get it out of sight somehow. And that starts by getting it away from where you took it in the first place. It's often the most adrenaline producing event of the entire con."

"Yeah, well, just don't forget whose side you're on this time."

"A little hard to." Brenna gestured to the tracking anklet around her leg. "I've got a constant reminder."

Suddenly, their conversation was cut short by the ringing of Alice's mobile. "Bennet…" Her face became serious. "Are you sure about that? All right, I'm on my way." She hung up and glanced at Brenan.

"Not good, I'm assuming." She said.

"Not really, no. we won't be able to talk to Van Coon after all. He's dead."

"Dead?" repeated Brenna, "How? Why?"

Alice shook her head. "I don't know. Apparently there are still a lot of unknowns. Either way, something tells me that this whole case has become even more serious."

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a short chapter, mainly to set up the main plot. There are hints as to what the flashback arc is going to be, which is based on two of the original Doyle mysteries. I look forward to sharing this new adventure with you. 
> 
> Please read and review.


End file.
